Just Pretend for a Night
by Lara Zed
Summary: Fred volunteers to help Hermione with an uncomfortable situation. But what happens when playing pretend gets a little too real? Post-Hogwarts, AU, FW/HG
1. Part 1

Disclaimer: Not my characters, not my universe - though I wish it was!

A/N: Hello, all! I hope you like this new story. It will be five chapters in total, and it should be fully posted within a month (barring the unforeseen, of course). Reviews are greatly appreciated, and as always, thank you very much for reading my stories.

* * *

><p><span>Part One<span>

Hermione was, as she always was, the first one of the group to arrive at the Leaky Cauldron for their regular Friday pub night. She had deliberately chose to come even earlier than usual, in hopes of drinking off the intense anger she had been feeling throughout most of the day before anyone else sat down at their usual booth toward the back of the pub. Even these plans were thwarted, however, when Fred and George showed up at the Leaky Cauldron uncharacteristically early.

'_For Merlin's sake, will nothing go right for me today?'_ she thought to herself, dutifully waving the twins over and taking another large gulp of her stout.

Fred and George couldn't help but notice the irritable expression on Hermione's face, particularly as she had been looking consistently more cheerful upon each encounter with her over the past few weeks. Never a pair to let a friend wallow in misery, Fred and George sat down with their pints on opposite sides of Hermione and each put an arm around her.

"Why the long face, Hermione?" asked Fred, mimicking her grouchy expression.

"Is there someone you need us to hex for you?" asked George, scrunching up his face to resemble the grimaces of the other two.

"Get stuffed," Hermione mumbled into her glass. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Ooh, listen to her! 'Get stuffed,' she says, George! Can you believe such rude language coming from our bookish little Hermione?" teased Fred.

Hermione scowled, and wriggled out of their hold. "It'll be ruder still if you two don't give me a bit of space. I showed up an hour before anyone else usually gets here in order to drink myself pleasant enough for company! What are you doing here at this time, anyway?"

George shrugged. "Mishap at the shop. A bunch of our Whiz-bangs got set off accidentally. No real harm done, but we've got to give them time to burn out, so we just closed up for the day."

"My misfortune," Hermione muttered, taking another swig.

"Come on, now, you're being a little harsh. You know that we're not here just to bother you, and we really would like to help cheer you up before everyone else arrives. I don't think that drinking alone is going to do that, do you?" Fred pressed.

Hermione sighed. "No," she admitted, annoyed at being bested by Fred and George, as well as realizing she was not going to get to finish her drink in peace.

"Of course it won't. Nothing can cheer a person up like a Weasley twin, and you have two right here at your disposal. So why don't you tell us what's bothering you, and maybe we can see if there's anything we can do to help?" replied Fred.

"Oh, fine!" she said in a huff. "If you really must know, then I will tell you. But it sounds so ridiculous saying it out loud. You'll think that I'm a pathetic, simpering airhead."

George shook his head. "We promise you'll get no judgment from us."

"Besides, I don't think it'd be possible for anyone to think that of you," added Fred.

"All right then," Hermione conceded. "It's the Ministry Christmas party. Or more specifically, it's Roger Davies."

"The Christmas party? Roger Davies? Which is it?" asked George, a puzzled expression appearing on his face.

"Roger Davies... I remember that guy from Hogwarts. Ravenclaw, right? Same year as George and me. Does he work in the Magical Creatures department with you now?" asked Fred.

"Yes, but he's with the Goblin Liaison Office. Anyway, the Ministry Christmas party is tomorrow, and for weeks he'd been hinting at asking me, talking like it was assumed that he was to be going to be my date there, flirting, all that nonsense. Only just today, I found out that he had asked Susan Bones weeks ago, but she wasn't sure that she was going to be in town for it, so he was basically prepping me as a back-up date if his original plans fell through."

"That tosser!" growled Fred. "So should we hex him for you?"

"Yes, he is a tosser, and no, you don't need to hex him. As I said, the party is tomorrow night. I had expected to be going with someone, and now I have the pleasure of showing up as a lonely spinster in front of all my partnered-off coworkers," Hermione finished, glowering.

George furrowed his brow. "May I ask a question? A bit of a personal one?" he said, cautiously.

Hermione nodded. "Go ahead."

"Do you fancy this Davies berk at all? I only ask because you don't seem specifically upset about not going out with him, only his treatment of you and the fact that you'll be at the party alone. I really don't mean to get too personal or anything, I just want to know exactly what sort of thing we're dealing with here," said George.

"You're not wrong about that. It's true that I wasn't specifically interested in Roger. I am properly hacked off at the way he's treated me, and, as you said, showing up to the party alone when that wasn't what I was expecting to do. So it isn't about liking him or anything, it's just..." Hermione trailed off, biting her lip.

"It's just what?" Fred urged.

"It sounds so stupid. It's just that I thought it would be nice to go on a date with someone! Something that would maybe lead to another date, or possibly having a boyfriend for a little while. Do you have any idea how long it's been since I've dated someone?" Hermione burst out. To herself, she added, _'or had any kind of intimate contact with someone?'_ Despite her close friendship with Fred and George, she wasn't about to admit that she was only human, and was looking forward to the possibility of a shag, even a casual one. Merlin's beard, even just getting a good snogging would have been nice! Sure, focusing on her career was important, but the lack of any social schedule outside of her tight circle of friends had admittedly left her missing not just romance, but the physical side of things, too.

She was stirred out of her own thoughts when Fred asked, "How long?"

"What?" She turned a little red, almost wondering if he could read her thoughts.

"How long has it been since you've dated? Surely it can't have been that long. You're a very eligible witch," he teased, nudging her with his shoulder.

"Clearly too eligible. I haven't been on a date in nearly two years," she confessed.

"Two years?" exclaimed George.

"How is that even possible?" added Fred, equally stunned.

"Oh, it's quite simple. All that has to happen is for no man to show interest in you, and there you have it! Two years, completely date-free. I didn't expect anything long-term from Roger, like you said, it's not as though I had specific interest in him, but it would have been really nice to go on a date for once. And even nicer still to not be the odd one out at the Christmas party. Everyone else I know has a spouse or partner accompanying them."

George furrowed his brow again. "Well, it may not be the perfect solution, but have you thought about bringing a friend? Can Ron or Harry be your date for the night?"

Hermione shook her head. "This is a pretty big affair. It's for the whole Ministry, and that includes the Auror department. Harry's already bringing Ginny, and you know that Ron's been seeing Romilda Vane for a couple of months now, so that rules him out, too."

"That is a problem," George muttered. "I'd offer to help, but Katie'd have my guts for garters, you know." He paused. "What about Fred?" he suddenly exclaimed.

"What about Fred?" asked Hermione.

"Why not bring him as your date?"

"Oh, I couldn't bring _Fred_," she argued.

"And why exactly not?" Fred suddenly asked, straightening up. "Do you have some sort of a problem with me?"

"Well, no…"

"And do you want a date for this party thing tomorrow?"

"Well, yes…"

"So what's the big problem then?" he challenged her.

"Fred, I was looking for a date! Maybe a potential boyfriend! I positively cannot ask you to be some sort of an absurd stand-in," she insisted.

"So you'd prefer to show up and be miserable all night? And to let Davies get the added ego boost of confirming that you really were waiting for his attentions?" replied Fred.

"No," Hermione fumed. "No, that's not what I'd prefer at all."

George cut in. "Look, Hermione, why can't you just pretend for a night? It may not be a real date, but have Fred pretend to be your boyfriend. At the very least, you'll have a better time with him than you would on your own, and you could show that div Davies exactly what he's missing out on."

Hermione pursed her lips. "I still don't know. It sounds like it could be a good plan, but it's just that… No offense, Fred, but I don't really see you as the boyfriend type."

"Hey, I will have you know that I am an excellent boyfriend!" Fred insisted, affronted.

"It's true. I've seen him when he's got a girlfriend. He's just _disgusting_. Makes the rest of us look downright awful in comparison," confirmed George.

"I don't know. Well, maybe..." Hermione considered, starting to feel worn down by their arguments.

"I promise, Hermione, I will be the perfect pretend boyfriend for one night. I'll be so attentive that by the end of the night, Davies will think that _you_ had been the one leading _him_ on," Fred asserted.

"That _is_ rather tempting," she admitted, unable to conceal the small wicked grin that had formed at the thought of turning the tables on Roger Davies.

"And do you want him to think that he can continue to get away with treating girls like he treated you?" George added.

"Well, absolutely not!" said Hermione heatedly.

"So do we have a pretend date?" asked Fred.

"It's a black tie event," she said apprehensively, eyeing his magenta work robes.

"We just came from work! You know I don't wear my Wizard Wheezes uniform all the time! Black tie is not a problem, I assure you," he answered.

"Then, sure, we have a pretend date," Hermione gave in, shrugging. "Thank you, I suppose."

"Well, you don't have to sound so excited about it," replied Fred.

"Heck of a show of gratitude for you," George joined in. "And here I thought you were helping her."

Suitably ashamed of her behaviour, Hermione reddened. "I'm sorry. Thank you, really. I'm just a bit nervous, that's all. Can you really blame me? I know your prankster reputation as well as anyone."

"Clearly, you don't know my boyfriend reputation, or you'd be nervous for an entirely different reason," Fred grinned, wiggling his eyebrows at her suggestively.

Hermione responded merely by raising a single eyebrow cynically.

Fred got the message. "Kidding! Just kidding! As I said, for one night and one night only, you, Hermione Granger, will have the one and only Fred Weasley as the perfect pretend boyfriend. You won't be disappointed. You'll see. So, what time should I pick you up tomorrow?"

Hermione sighed, already beginning to regret her agreement to the ridiculous plan. "Well, the party starts at eight, but I don't want to be the first one there…"

"I'll pick you up from your flat at seven-thirty, and we can go out for a quick drink somewhere first. We'll relax, get just a little bit tiddly, and then we can make a fashionably late entrance."

"Fine! But could we please change the subject before this becomes the only subject that gets talked about all night?" asked Hermione, as she saw Ginny entering the pub. She waved at the youngest Weasley sibling, who was getting her first pint at the bar. Hermione knew that if Ginny caught wind of the plan ahead of time that she'd be forced to reiterate the entire embarrassing conversation.

Fred and George both took the hint, and immediately started discussing the previous night's Chudley Cannons match as Ginny sat down and joined in with astute criticism of the team's defensive strategy. Hermione sat quietly, managing to remain completely inconspicuous, as her friends knew she never had any input to their Quidditch discussions. She definitely had concerns about her date – well, pretend date – to the Christmas party, but she couldn't help but admit to herself that the Weasley twins did manage, at least, to successfully cheer her up for the moment, as they had promised. Perhaps Fred could pull off his promise for the next night, too.


	2. Part 2

Disclaimer: All of the Harry Potter universe is J. K. Rowling's. It's nice that she lets us play with it. One of the settings in this chapter is real, though.

A/N: I thought I'd get in one more post for 2011! Happy new year, all! I hope that you are enjoying this story so far. I've had a bit of time off work, so I've actually gotten to spend time writing - woo hoo! Anyway, I hope you like this chapter. Reviews are, as always, much appreciated.

* * *

><p><span>Part Two<span>

Hermione paced back and forth across her living room, staring at her front door. She didn't know why she was finding herself so nervous. It was still only 7:25; Fred wasn't late yet. She felt unprepared, somehow. She had mentally been ready for a real date for weeks, and the idea of suddenly switching to a friend-date or a fake-date or whatever this was supposed to be seemed to have thrown her somewhat off her equilibrium. Despite having known Fred for years, seeing him regularly at the Leaky Cauldron, as well as occasionally at the Burrow and his shop in Diagon Alley, she wasn't sure she had actually spent much time one-on-one with him, and she knew that her anxiety was linked to that, too. She had no idea if they'd have a good time together or if they would quickly run out of things to talk about. Oh, and of course having no clue as to whether or not he'd take this seriously, or if he'd spend the whole night playing pranks on her certainly didn't help the state of her nerves.

She checked her appearance in the mirror for what seemed like the twentieth time. The copious amounts of Sleekeazy's Hair Potion smoothed out her unruly curls and allowed her to charm her hair into an elegant French twist. She had dabbed a drop of vanilla behind each ear, just as her mother had always done to her before attending weddings or parties growing up. The loan of Ginny's magazines had assisted her in learning the appropriate makeup charms, but she still checked carefully to see that her lipstick was not smeared.

With a sudden panicked thought, she looked down at her dress. The dress that she had bought with the intent to impress Roger Davies. The clingy, white satin evening gown was indeed flattering and elegant, but its neckline was unquestionably cut a tad lower than she was accustomed to, whereas the slit halfway up her right thigh was higher than she was accustomed to. The addition of the fairly small cut-out in the dress's lower back left her suddenly feeling thoroughly exposed. Hermione was not used to showing any cleavage or leg at all, normally finding comfort in loose-fitting jeans and t-shirts, or tailored suits at the office. She debated trying to charm the dress to cover her up a bit more, but worried that her lack of experience in that type of glamour charm could end up ruining her only suitable outfit for the night's event. This train of thought was interrupted when she heard a knock at the door.

Hermione answered the door, and found herself doing a double-take as she faced Fred Weasley decked out in full white tie evening dress, including a midnight blue evening tailcoat and white waistcoat. Clearly, she had nothing to worry about when it came to his ability to dress formally.

While Hermione was still dumbstruck by Fred's appearance, Fred also found himself rather surprised by the sight of a dolled-up Hermione displaying a rather remarkable figure normally kept well hidden, but he recovered more quickly from the shock. Looking her over, he cheekily said, "It's a good thing I promised to pretend to be the _perfect_ boyfriend, or else I might have suggested that we skip the party and I spend the night ravishing you." He wiggled his eyebrows and grinned at her wickedly.

Hermione's face flushed a deep crimson, both self-conscious and annoyed. "Fred, if that's how you're going to be behaving tonight –" she started to say, in an irritated tone.

He cut her off. "It's not. Just needed to get the last of the jokester out of my system for the evening. I'm good from here on out. As a matter of fact..." He held up the bouquet of flowers and box of chocolates he had been holding at his sides, previously unnoticed by Hermione in favour of his attire.

Hermione took the bouquet. "Oh, Fred, thank you very much. Calla lilies are my favourite flower!" she said graciously.

"Fancy that," said Fred coyly.

Hermione conjured a glass vase full of water on the sideboard in the front hall, and carefully arranged the lilies in the vase one by one. "Please come in," she added in Fred's direction.

He stepped through her doorway, and offered the box of chocolates again. "I'm glad you like the flowers. But no interest in the chocolates?" he asked.

She turned, still arranging the flowers. "No, it's just... Well, I do know better than to take a sweet from a Weasley twin, don't I?"

He placed a hand over his heart in mock pain. "You wound me!" he said dramatically. "You really think I would bring you spelled chocolates on an occasion such as this?"

Hermione merely raised a single eyebrow in response.

Fred sighed. "All right. I know what you mean. But I can prove that I'm really not up to anything. Here," he said, opening the box and holding it out to Hermione.

"You want me to just go ahead and try one?" she asked, sceptically.

Fred shook his head. "Nope. Pick any chocolate, and I'll eat it. You want to be really sure? You can feed it to me, then I won't have the chance to touch it and do anything to it in any way." He grinned, and opened his mouth widely.

Hermione laughed, and paused, looking over the sweets. She selected a chocolate from the left of centre of the box, and placed it in Fred's mouth, watching and waiting as he chewed.

He swallowed, and said, "See? Nothing has happened. Ordinary chocolate. Well, Honeyduke's finest, but ordinary in all other respects otherwise."

She hesitated for a few moments longer, and then helped herself to a sweet. "Thank you, again, Fred," she said, taking the box from him and placing it next to the vase. "I'm sorry for suspecting you."

"I suppose one does build up a reputation," he sighed. Dropping the affectation, he added in a more sincere tone, "I know I was kidding around before, but you really do look absolutely stunning tonight, Hermione."

Her cheeks went pink at the compliment, and she stuttered, "As do you. I mean, you look very handsome. I mean, well, that is…" she paused to collect herself, and started again. "You look very nice. You certainly went above and beyond for the occasion! You know you could have just done black tie, right?"

He shrugged. "What can I say? I always like to make an impression."

"Well, you definitely did that," said Hermione quietly, as she checked her makeup one more time and slipped on her periwinkle blue cashmere coat before heading out the door.

As Hermione locked up her flat, she asked, "So, you said we're arriving fashionably late tonight. What did you have in mind?"

"As I said, we'll get a drink or two in us first. It'll relax us a bit, and we'll both be properly loosened up before going to this government do," said Fred.

"But where are we going?" asked Hermione.

"Allow me to continue surprising you this evening," he replied.

Hermione was indeed surprised when she realized that they weren't heading to Diagon Alley, or to any other wizard-only street. As he led her up to the door of the Lanesborough Hotel in the Hyde Park area (after a side-along Apparition), she stopped quickly.

"A hotel? Really? Are you sure you don't have the aforementioned 'ravishing' in mind?" Hermione asked wryly.

Fred just laughed. "Of course not. There's a bar I heard about in the hotel, and it just sounded like it might be an atmosphere that you'd really like."

Offering his arm for her to take, he led her through the hotel until they reached a bar that resembled a private library. Floor-to-ceiling bookcases filled with leather-bound volumes covered the walls and a warm, inviting fire was crackling away in the elegant fireplace. They were soon seated in a comfortable pair of upholstered wingback chairs, and Fred ordered them each a vodka martini while Hermione continued to take in her surroundings.

"Fred, this place is beautiful!" she gasped, when she finally stopped examining the room long enough to speak.

He grinned. "Thought you might like it," he answered.

"Oh, I do, very much so!" she said, still looking over every corner of the bar. "How did you find this place? It's not in Diagon Alley or any wizards' part of the city."

"Hey, I'm an open-minded guy! I have a few Muggle friends. I'm actually quite familiar with many parts of London, I'll have you know," he said, with simulated haughtiness.

Hermione laughed. "You learn something new every day, I suppose!"

Their drinks were placed in front of them. Hermione took a sip.

"I hope you don't mind that I ordered for you," said Fred. "That's not something that I usually do, but they make really great vodka martinis here, and I thought you'd like it."

"It's exquisite. I do indeed enjoy a good martini," agreed Hermione. "I have to say, I had my doubts about the whole 'pretend boyfriend' thing, but George does not seem to have been wrong. I've been very impressed so far. This doesn't even seem like a standard routine or anything like that. It's like you've tailored these choices to me specifically."

"That's exactly what I did. You don't need to sound so surprised," said Fred. "As I said, I am an excellent boyfriend. Even a pretend one."

"So what would you do next on a date, then?" Hermione asked.

"Do you really want to dissect and analyze this? Wouldn't you rather enjoy it as it happens?" Fred challenged.

Hermione shrugged. "Indulge me for a bit. What can I say, I've got an analytical mind."

"Well, like you said, there isn't just one routine date. It depends on the girl. I took you here because I was fairly sure you'd like the ambience," he started.

"And I do," she confirmed, and took a deep breath. "I just love that old book smell."

"Now, a gift is not customary on every date. It's more of a special occasion thing. Like for a really big event, or sometimes just if I think the girl needs to feel special, like if she's been going through a hard time or something," Fred explained.

"And which is this?" asked Hermione.

"Both," said Fred. "A black tie affair is always a special event, and after the way Davies treated you, and what you said about not having gone out with anyone for a while… Well, I just thought you deserve a night of someone treating you like the extraordinary woman that you are."

Hermione blushed slightly, and nodded with understanding. When she found her voice again, she added, "but you said everything is personal to the girl. Not that I'm complaining, but aren't flowers and chocolates a little bit clichéd?"

"Ah, I'm glad you asked that! It might indeed seem that way at first glance, but remind me – what did you when I gave you your bouquet?" he asked, a sly grin on his face.

"I said that calla lilies were my favourite flower…" she said slowly, realizing what she was saying as she said it. "But how could you possibly know that?"

"I'm a good listener, and I tend to mentally file away a lot of information. I've been that way since George and I started inventing. You never know when something that may initially seem unimportant could come in handy later. You mentioned loving the calla lilies that were at Bill and Fleur's wedding. I didn't know that they were your absolute favourite, admittedly, but I knew they would go over well," he finished.

"Quite impressive," replied Hermione. She took another sip of her martini. "And the chocolates?"

"You like chocolates," answered Fred simply. "When I used to date Angelina, I'd bring her treacle fudge. If I knew you preferred something else, that's what I would have brought. But I know for a fact that you're a bit of a chocoholic."

Hermione mimed tipping a hat to Fred. "I really am impressed. I'm sorry for everything I said at the pub yesterday. You clearly do know how to treat a lady. I had thought that at best it'd be some kind of a formula."

Fred grinned. "I bet you'd have been ready to get all up in arms about that, eh? You'd suggest that I was treating women like they were all exactly the same."

"No!" insisted Hermione. "Well, maybe." She chuckled, and took another sip to take a moment to figure out how to rephrase her thoughts. "I'm really just saying that I'm surprised. Pleasantly so, of course. But what I mean is, we've known each other for years, and I still didn't know you knew that much about me."

"Hermione, you're my friend," said Fred. "Why wouldn't I know things about you?"

"I didn't mean anything personal, I swear. I just didn't particularly think that anyone beyond Harry, Ginny, and sometimes Ron, would pay much attention to an unexciting bookworm such as myself," said Hermione.

Fred took Hermione's hand that wasn't holding her drink, and looked her in the eyes. "Don't be so hard on yourself. Just because some people have overlooked you doesn't mean you should be overlooked. That shouldn't happen to you. But it really doesn't mean that all of us fail to notice you, yeah? I meant what I said before. You are a fantastic person, and you deserve to feel special. You're kind, and you're smart and funny, and you've got loads of friends. Friends who pay enough attention to know that there is nothing unexciting about you."

Hermione's face burned a deep red. "Fred, I…" she found herself somewhat speechless. Clearing her throat, she tried again. "That's very nice of you to say," she said quietly, casting her eyes downward.

Fred patted her hand. "What are friends for, if not to pick you up? Or in this case, pretend boyfriends? Now come on, let's drop the pity party. I think we're ready to move on to the real party, don't you?"

Hermione nodded, her cheeks already fading from crimson to pink as she looked back up, smiling.


	3. Part 3

Disclaimer: All characters and settings are property of J. K. Rowling.

A/N: This chapter took a bit longer than I had anticipated! Only two more chapters to go after this one. I hope that you are all enjoying the story so far. As always, thank you very much for reading!

* * *

><p><span>Part Three<span>

It was 8:45 when Fred and Hermione arrived at the Ministry Christmas party, by which time it was already in full swing. Walking into the crowded banquet hall, Hermione's stomach clenched with nerves again. She hadn't considered what her friends' reactions might be to her choice of date, as she hadn't actually mentioned it to Harry, Ron, or Ginny.

This sudden realization was not for nought, as her friends' expressions denoted sheer amazement as the pair walked through the door together. Seeing this allowed Hermione's nerves to get the better of her, and despite her poise and the polish to her appearance, her hands began to shake with anxiety.

The change to her confidence level didn't go unnoticed by Fred, and he took one of her hands in his to still it.

"Hey, we're here now. We're going to get through this together, okay? It won't be bad at all," Fred whispered in her ear, squeezing her hand.

Hermione gulped, nodded, and squeezed back. "Right," she said, assuring herself just as much as agreeing with him.

Hand-in-hand, they approached Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Romilda, not far from the hall's entrance. "Hello," Hermione managed, somewhat sheepishly.

Ginny cocked her head to the side. "So what's this?" she asked matter-of-factly.

Hermione helplessly looked up at Fred, not sure how they would be behaving in front of their inner circle.

Fred squeezed her hand again for comfort, and spoke up. "It's nothing to be concerned with. As everyone in her department, as well as all of you, is partnered up for the evening, I'm just her date for the night. And for all intents and purposes, acting as a picture-perfect boyfriend. So before any one of you suggest that I'm up to no good, I solemnly swear that Hermione is totally safe from any and all Wizarding Wheezes tonight, okay?"

Harry smiled. "Good to know. Don't worry, we trust you."

"And there's nothing else going on here that we need to know about?" asked Ginny.

Before either of them could answer, Ron laughed. "Of course there isn't! Could you really imagine Hermione and Fred together?" he asked.

The group all joined in with the laughter, including Fred and Hermione, though they did share a puzzled look with each other.

"I'm sorry," Ginny said. "I guess I was just being nosy."

"Not a problem," answered Fred. "We'll catch up with you later, yeah? We just got here, so I imagine Hermione's got to make the rounds."

Hermione nodded in agreement. "Yes, I should say hello to some of the people in my department," she affirmed.

"Well, have a good time," Ginny grinned, and gave Hermione a hug. "You look beautiful, by the way."

"So do you! But you always do," said Hermione, hugging her friend back.

Ginny laughed. "See you later," she said, and Fred and Hermione made their way through the hall.

After finding Hermione's boss and a few of her colleagues and engaging in the requisite amount of small talk, Fred leaned over to Hermione.

"What do you think they meant?" he asked.

"What did who mean about what?" she said.

"Ron and them. What did they find so funny about the idea of us together?"

Hermione shrugged. "I don't think it was intended as a slight to either of us," she answered. "I guess they just see us as really different from each other. The bookworm and the prankster, you know."

"That's more than there is to either one of us, though. We're not so one-dimensional," grumbled Fred.

"Why does it matter?" asked Hermione.

"Because I'm pretending to be your boyfriend tonight. I promised to do a great job of it. We've got to be able to convince people, otherwise what's the point of me being here?" he asked.

"That's true," Hermione contemplated. "Why? Did you want to leave?" she added, worriedly.

"No, of course not! I made a promise to you. I'm just saying, we've got to be able to be convincing, right?"

"Right," she agreed.

"So let's drop these labels that people have put on us, and just be ourselves," said Fred. "We're already friends, so I think that we can easily pretend to be more than that for the duration of this party."

Hermione smiled. "Sounds like a plan. I think this should be fine. I'm fairly certain that we've convinced everyone we've seen from my department so far. We'll just continue to – oh shit!"

"What is it?" questioned Fred.

"It's Roger and Susan. Over there," said Hermione quietly, gesturing at a couple only feet ahead of them. "Damn it. Let's go around them, okay?"

"What? Why?" Fred asked.

"You know why," she answered. "He tried to humiliate me! I don't have any problems with Susan, obviously; she had nothing to do with this. But I just _don't_ want to see him."

Fred sighed. "Look, part of the reason I came here with you was to prove that what he did was no bother to you at all, yeah?"

Hermione nodded. "Right."

"Right. So let's show him that it didn't bother you," said Fred.

"But, Fred –" she started.

"So what you're going to do is walk right up to them, say hello with a great big smile, and tell Susan how beautiful she looks. Then you introduce me as your good friend, but maybe pause a moment before saying 'good friend.' After that, you just follow my lead. And most important, make it look natural," he quickly instructed.

Before Hermione could even ask the question of the tip of her tongue, 'make _what_ look natural?' he was steering her in the very direction she didn't want to go.

Putting a wide, bright smile on, she greeted them just as Fred had told her. "Hi, Susan! Oh wow, I love your dress. You look stunning!"

"Oh my, so do you! You're so glamorous!" answered Susan.

"Aw, thank you! Hello, Roger, it's good to see you, too! Do you both know my… uh, my good friend Fred Weasley?" asked Hermione, maintaining her cheery tone.

"'Course, Roger and I were in the same year at school. How are you doing?" asked Fred, extending his hand.

Roger shook Fred's hand. "All right, mate, how've you been doing?"

"Just brilliant. The store's been doing great, we're looking at expanding sometime in the next year," Fred answered casually.

Hermione found herself instantly distracted from Fred and Roger's small talk as she struggled to prevent her eyes from widening in surprise. She suddenly realized what Fred meant by "make it look natural" as he slid his hand around her back and curled her fingers protectively around her hip.

"Have you two gotten any dinner yet?" asked Susan, bringing Hermione's attention back to the conversation.

"Uh, no, we've only practically just gotten here," replied Hermione quickly.

"Bit late, eh? Make sure you get to the buffet before it's empty. Everything's amazing," said Susan.

"Yeah, we'll go get our table in a minute," Fred grinned. "We were just… running a little bit behind tonight."

Hermione hastily remembered Fred's direction to "follow his lead" and placed her hand on his chest. "Shush! Not around my colleagues," she giggled. She had to fight not giggling harder as she saw Roger's astounded expression.

"Right, well, we'll catch up with you later. We'd best get something to eat," said Fred simply, leading Hermione toward the buffet. As they turned away, he muttered under his breath, "Are you sure you haven't done anything like this before? You were great."

Hermione shook with laughter against him. "You should have given me a little more warning!" she whispered.

"There wasn't time, and you clearly didn't need it," said Fred, sounding impressed. "You could have been an actress."

Hermione was still trying to stop quaking with laughter. "Let's just get something to eat," she managed to say.

After filling their plates with food, the two of them found a quiet table, with only a few people from other departments seated there.

Hermione carefully nibbled at her lasagne. "I really am grateful for your help tonight. I know I was a bit of a jerk about it at first, but I was just in a foul mood. I'm sorry about that," she said.

Fred shrugged. "I know people don't necessarily believe I have a serious side. I can't totally blame you," he answered.

Hermione frowned. "Does that bother you?" she asked.

"Sometimes, yeah," he said. "I don't tend to think about it too much. I make my living being a prankster, so the reputation is a requirement. All the same, I know that other people don't need to work as hard as I do to prove their own sincerity, so… Yeah. Yeah, it can really bother me sometimes."

"Like you said earlier, I think we all know that there is more to you than just that one thing about your personality," said Hermione.

Fred raised an eyebrow. "That's nice of you to say, but do you really feel that way? I mean, even tonight you didn't trust the chocolates I brought you."

Hermione bit her lip. "I'm so sorry," she said, ashamed. "I'd know better now, though. I trust you. Really."

At that, a wicked glint appeared in Fred's eye. "Trust me enough to join me on the dance floor?" he asked.

"Oh no. No, no, no," said Hermione. "I don't dance. You know that."

Fred grinned. "Not even with your boyfriend?" he urged. He put his fork down, and stood up, extending his hand.

Hermione shook her head and crossed her arm. "It's not happening," she said flatly.

"Come on, practically everyone else is dancing by now. We said we'd make this look real, yeah?" he said, raising his eyebrows.

She sighed. "Do we have to?" she whined.

"At this point, the longer you take to get up, the less believable we'll seem to everyone," he said.

Hermione sighed. "Fine. You win." She took his hand, got up out of her seat, and allowed Fred to lead her to the dance floor.

Her original apprehensions were soon forgotten. Fred was very light on his feet, and skilfully led her around the floor. Her sense of inadequacy as a dancer was more than made up for by his talent, and in next to no time, she was surprised to find that she was thoroughly enjoying herself.

"What on earth were you worried about?" Fred asked, spinning her around, then back. "You're really good!"

"I just don't know how to dance!" she answered, beaming.

"Could have fooled me!" he said, pulling her back toward him and leaning in to dip her.

"I guess I just have a great teacher," she said, still smiling broadly with the fun and excitement of her first time ever enjoying dancing.

As the music changed from faster-paced songs to a slow one, Hermione gestured back in the direction of their table.

"Should we go sit down?" she asked.

Fred took one of her hands in his, and held her around the waist with his other hand. "I don't see why we should. You're having a good time, aren't you?"

Hermione put her free hand on his shoulder. "I am, yes."

"Then let's carry on. I think it's normal enough for a girl to slow-dance with her pretend boyfriend, don't you?" he asked.

"Mm-hm," she agreed, smiling at him.

Despite enjoying herself greatly, Hermione abruptly realized after about a minute that she and Fred had been dancing in complete silence. While this had felt natural during their faster dancing, the absence of conversation seemed more conspicuous in such a close proximity to each other. Feeling a bit awkward with this sudden awareness, she spoke up.

"So when you were talking to Roger before, you mentioned that you and George were looking at expanding the store. Is that true?" she asked.

"Oh yeah, definitely!" said Fred. "Our back room at number 93 is starting to feel too small for what we've got in mind, so we're looking at getting a location just for invention development. And we've been looking at the numbers, and we think it's finally a good time to open a Hogsmeade location, too! So all of that should be happening over the next year. Year and a half, tops."

"That's fantastic!" said Hermione.

"How about you?" he asked. "How are you liking this place? Do you know where you want to go with it?"

Hermione shrugged slightly. "I joined this area of the Ministry because I really wanted to make a difference. And I think that the Office for House-Elf Relocation is a very important service. I really do! But all the same, I still feel like I'm just a paper pusher. I want an opportunity to prove my motivation, and I don't know that I'm getting it in this role."

"Do you know what you want to do, then?" asked Fred.

"I think so," said Hermione. "I think that if I don't get an opportunity for a promotion – one where I can really do more – in this department over the next six months, I'm going to request a transfer to Werewolf Support Services. Padma Patil works there, and I've spent a few lunch breaks sitting in with her while she works. They do some great things for people, and under Shacklebolt, there's been a big emphasis in the Ministry for werewolves to be treated more like ordinary wizards who just need help."

Fred smiled. "I could see why you would want to be a part of that."

The song ended, and the next one started – another slow one. This time, Hermione made no effort to gesture them back to their seats. While she had never been fond of spending time on a dance floor before, she was more than pleased with her current experience, and saw no reason to end it any time soon.

They carried on chatting throughout the next dance, when Fred started to appear focused on a spot over Hermione's shoulder. All of a sudden, he gently pulled her closer to him while they danced, reducing the comfortable distance that had kept between them to mere inches.

"Wh-what are you doing?" asked Hermione, her heart pounding so loud it seemed to be echoing through her head.

Fred leaned close to her ear. "Davies and Susan are on the floor, not too far from us right now," he said, in a deep whisper.

"Oh," Hermione said simply, willing the deep flush that she could feel in her cheeks to go away before Fred was looking at her again.

She had nothing to worry about, as he continued to whisper in her ear. "What do you say we drive the lesson home? Make sure he doesn't treat any girl like this again?"

Hermione could only nod in response.

"All right then," he said. "When I finish talking, I want you to laugh. Then I'm going to touch foreheads with you. From the angle he's viewing us, it'll look like we've kissed. Got it? Right now."

As his directions for the night seemed to have worked so far, Hermione threw her head back with laughter. Righting herself, she let Fred leaned toward her and touched his forehead to hers, and moved away.

"Ha!" said Fred, looking back over Hermione's shoulder. "I wish you could see his expression right now. It's priceless!"

Hermione discovered that she was too busy catching her breath to think about what Roger Davies must look like. Automatically, she leaned back into Fred's body while the music continued, and quietly revisited her train of thought from the previous evening at the pub.

While not specifically interested in Roger Davies, there had been just enough of a physical attraction there to hope for a snog, maybe even more. When he was a possibility, she had felt rather clinical and detached about the whole thing. They would have gone to the party together, enjoyed some intimate contact with each other afterward, and then she would assess whether or not she would put any efforts into repeating the process, or if he would have, for the time, satisfied her needs. Her frustration at his deception was, as she had told Fred and George, not so much personal as it was a very general sort of disappointment.

What she had never expected with Roger, though, was this natural feeling of comfort that she was currently experiencing in Fred's arms. And she certainly hadn't expected this with Fred. Analytical as ever, she tried to assess what she was feeling.

In addition to a general sense of comfort, easily creditable to her comfort with Fred's company, there was also a warm feeling… A sense of ease, while somehow at the same time a little bit bothered, nervous. She identified feelings of contentment, of general affection, of exhilaration, of desire…

She startled herself. _'Desire? For Fred?'_ she thought. _'That can't be right.'_

Her sudden prolonged silence had not been going unnoticed.

"Are you okay?" asked Fred, upsetting her trance. "Aren't you having a good time?"

Hermione pushed herself back from him slightly. "Yes, very much so," she said, flustered.

"Are you feeling all right?" he asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

She nodded. "I am, thank you."

"I don't know, you seem a bit off somehow. Maybe we should sit this next one out. If you're not well…" he said, a bit of worry in his tone.

Hermione smiled at him. "I promise you, I'm fine! And I am having a great time. What would sitting down accomplish? I've been having such a good time dancing tonight. Why should we do anything else?"

Fred smiled back. "Okay, then. I was just worried you weren't feeling well. You know I'm happy to keep dancing, but don't be brave on my account. If anything is bothering you, we can say our goodbyes, and I'll take you back home, yeah?"

Hermione leaned back against Fred so he wouldn't see her face get flushed. "Maybe only a couple more dances, then," she heard herself say.


	4. Part 4

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to J. K. Rowling. It's nice that she lets us play with it.

A/N: Sorry, folks! I thought the whole story would be posted by now, but life gets in the way. There's just one chapter to go after this one. Thank you as always for reading, and bigger thanks for reviewing - especially to **Rori Potter**, **pixie08363**, **93 Diagon Alley**, **Kiesamiesa**, and **smc1214** for reviewing multiple chapters of the story so far. Feedback means a lot to me. Hope you enjoy this chapter (and remember, this story is rated M for a reason)!

* * *

><p>Part Four<p>

"I believe at this stage it would be traditional for me to offer you some sort of a nightcap," said Hermione, looking over her shoulder at Fred while she unlocked the door to her flat.

She hoped that her coworkers would not notice her slightly early departure from the party, but she had found herself having difficulty focusing on the festivities after that last slow dance with Fred. She was sure that Fred would have noticed her contemplative silence when they sat back down for dessert. With her mind trying to assess what she was feeling, she found she couldn't stay much longer, just wanting to get back to a more secure, more familiar environment. And if it happened to be a more private environment as well… well, that was just happy coincidence, wasn't it?

"That would be great. Thank you," answered Fred. "What do you have?"

Opening her door, Hermione let Fred in and walked over to her small but reasonably well-stocked liquor cabinet. "I have a rather nice cognac," she said. "Would you be up for that?"

"Sounds great," he said, sitting down on her sofa. He undid his bow tie and the top button of his tuxedo shirt. "Ah, much better," he said. "I hope this doesn't seem rude or anything. It's not that I don't like getting dressed up, but it's hardly as comfortable as an old jumper and jeans, you know?"

Hermione laughed. "I know what you mean," she said, sitting beside him with their snifters. She passed him his glass, and set hers down on the coffee table. "In that case, since you've already started getting comfortable, I'm not wasting any more time." She bent down and removed her three-inch heels. "Oh, that's _so_ much better!" she breathed, relieved to have her feet out of their individual torture devices.

"I just don't understand how you women can wear those things," laughed Fred.

"Oh, me neither. That's why it's a special-occasions-only sort of thing for me," she affirmed, flexing her toes.

"Here, stretch out," Fred offered, shuffling to an end of the couch.

"Oh, thank you," she said. Hermione sat at the other end, and stretched her legs out, with her feet resting on Fred's lap. While it was a seemingly easy movement, Hermione found herself trying to figure out, in that split second, whether he meant for her to lean her body against his and stretch her legs out over the rest of the couch, or to stretch her legs out with her feet in his direction. She ended up making the safer choice, but found herself glad that she did, as Fred began to massage her feet between sips of his cognac.

"Mm, oh my god, that's good," she groaned pleasurably, before gasping at realizing exactly how she sounded. "Oh my goodness, I mean, um, well…" she stammered, unable to take back her rather uninhibited reaction.

Fred laughed. "No need to be embarrassed. Just one of my many talents," he boasted, raising his eyebrows. "Enjoy your drink and the foot rub. Like I said, I don't get how you can spend an evening dancing in heels like that. This is the least a perfect boyfriend would do, knowing you're probably in agony right now."

"Still pretending to be my boyfriend, then?" she asked, trying to sound casual.

Fred shrugged. "I keep my promises, and the evening's not over yet, so far as I can tell. I know you don't doubt my attentions anymore, by this point, but I'm still not going to give you reason to come away from tonight saying I was a disappointment."

"I highly doubt that you'd be a disappointment," Hermione murmured into her snifter. The cognac was doing exactly what she needed it to do; between that and the foot massage, she could feel her body relaxing and getting pleasantly warm.

"What was that?" asked Fred.

Hermione gulped. "I said that I highly doubt I'd call you a disappointing date. I've had a really lovely time tonight."

Fred smiled, and placed her feet back in his lap so he could enjoy his drink. "I'm glad. You deserve it."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Do I?"

"Stop it. I know what you're thinking. You're still thinking about what you said to me and George yesterday about not having gone on a date in ages, right?" he asked.

"Maybe a bit," she conceded.

"Well, stop thinking about it. You're great. And you've been wrapped up in your career for the last couple years, yeah?"

"Yeah," she agreed.

"Then maybe it just hasn't been the right time for a relationship for you. When it is, I'm sure that the right person for you will come along," he finished.

Hermione smiled warmly. "That's nice of you to say," she said.

"I meant it," answered Fred, taking a gulp of the last of his cognac, and picking up her feet again to continue kneading them.

Hermione sighed deeply, and settled back against the sofa. As her feet were being attended to, she used the quiet moment to continue trying to gauge her feelings – about the evening, about Fred, about what she wanted. She still wasn't sure, but she knew she wasn't looking forward to an official end to their date. She may not have understood her own emotions, but she knew she had to do everything in her power to prevent it from ending.

She also suspected that she would by no means be displeased with some form of closer contact with Fred. She considered the option of offering to refill his drink, then sitting much closer to him when she returned with their refreshments, and then… well, she'd play it by ear at that point.

She cleared her throat. "Well, would you… like another drink?" asked Hermione, attempting to sound as cool and natural as possible.

Fred looked at his watch, and stood up. "Thank you, but it's getting quite late. I don't have to be in the shop until noon tomorrow, but I should probably still let you get some sleep."

'_Damn! That backfired!'_ thought Hermione, inwardly panicking. _'What do I do? I haven't gotten to sit near him yet, haven't even tried to… I can't let him go. Not yet.'_

"So that's the evening done and over with, then? No goodnight kiss? Or is that not one of your 'many talents'?" she asked, trying to maintain a somewhat playful and teasing tone in an attempt to cover up her hopefulness.

"Hey! Don't you dare challenge me! What kind of a pretend perfect boyfriend would I be if you didn't get a perfect goodnight kiss?" asked Fred, mockingly acting affronted.

Hermione tensed slightly as he tenderly placed a hand on each side of her face and leaned toward her. Unsure of what to expect, she allowed him to lead, and not long after their lips met, his tongue slowly caressed hers just slightly. After a few seconds of this languid bliss, she could feel him just beginning to pull away to end the kiss. Hermione decided that she wasn't ready for that yet, and responded by closing the distance between their bodies. She pressed herself flush against him, and wrapped her arms tightly around his shoulders. She could tell that he was surprised by her actions based on the sudden sharp intake of breath, but he made no further move to break away from her. With this new closeness, it wasn't long before their kiss became more fervid, desperate, as their tongues explored one another's, and Fred's hands moved from Hermione's face to around her waist. She pulled closer against him still, and her right leg escaped from her gown through its high slit as she slid her foot around the back of Fred's left leg. It was with this action that he quickly broke away from her, stepping several feet back while he caught his breath.

"I really should go," he whispered, and turned away from her, starting toward the door.

Hermione knew only that she didn't want the night to be concluded, that she had just experienced the best kiss of her life, and that she was craving still further contact with him. Seemingly functioning on autopilot, she spoke again.

"Fred?" she asked, her voice shaking. "The night isn't over yet. Do you maybe want to pretend for a little bit longer?"

Having opened her front door just slightly, he stopped moving and sighed. "You really don't know what you're asking of me, Hermione," he said flatly.

"How can you possibly think that? We're both adults. I know what I'm asking for," she said, trying to sound assertive despite the slight tremble still present in her tone. "I can prove it."

She did the only thing she could think of, the only way to show that she knew what she wanted at that moment. She removed her dress in one deft movement. "Stay?" she asked nervously.

He turned around to see her standing in the middle of her living room, wearing only a delicate, lacy, white strapless bra and tiny white lace knickers.

He closed the door, and removed his evening tailcoat, tossing it on the hall's sideboard.

"Oh, to hell with it," said Fred, and took her back in his arms, renewing their ardent kiss.

Rather than wrapping her arms around him this time, Hermione's hands went to work on removing Fred's elaborate attire. She pulled the undone bow tie out of the way, effectively made quick work of unbuttoning the waistcoat, and then moved on to the buttons of his dress shirt. She tried to pull the shirt off, but the cufflinks Fred was wearing prevented her immediate success, and they had to briefly separate from their embrace while he removed them.

"Why are you wearing so many clothes?" Hermione grumbled.

"I didn't expect to need to be taking them off so quickly," he answered, before reclaiming her lips.

Hermione's nimble fingers unfastened Fred's belt buckle and unzipped his trousers. He kicked off his shoes and socks, and shimmied out of his trousers, stepping out of them as they fell to the floor. The two now both down to their undergarments, they suddenly broke apart for a moment, as though giving each other the opportunity to put a stop to things now if they wanted to. Breathing very heavily, and without breaking eye contact, Hermione nodded her approval, and Fred followed by doing the same. Their lips met again, hands exploring the other's bare skin, frantic and hungry for one another.

Fred broke away from Hermione's mouth, and trailed kisses down her neck, nipping and sucking on it slightly harder as she responded with happy moans.

Without breaking their embrace, Hermione used her remaining focus to lead Fred back to her sofa, and pushed him gently to a seated position while he continued his attentions to her collarbone. As she stood over him, sighing at his ministrations, he reached up and tenderly cupped her left breast, squeezing it gently. Breathing his name, Hermione sat down, straddling Fred.

They both gasped with pleasure as Hermione ground herself against the substantial bulge in Fred's pants, a fresh shockwave of lust running through the two of them. As Hermione ran her hands over his chest, Fred's mouth returned to hers in another heated kiss.

Without breaking any focus away from her lips, he slid one hand along her back, finding the clasp to her lacy bra. With what seemed like a single snap of his fingers, the clasp was undone, the bra falling down between their bodies.

Hermione broke away with a smile. "My goodness, you're good at just about everything, aren't you?" she said teasingly.

Fred grinned mischievously. "You tell me," he said, before placing his mouth over her right nipple, tonguing it fervently as Hermione started to moan again. She continued to roll her hips, grinding against him harder still, until her arousal seemed to be at its absolute zenith. Or so she thought, until Fred's hands firmly grabbed her arse, pressing her somehow even closer to him.

"Fred," she managed to say at a gasping whisper. "Can't wait any longer."

"Hmm?" he simply responded. The subtle vibration of spoken hum against her nipple caused her to take a sharp intake of air.

"Can't wait any longer. Need you right now," she breathed, her hands tugging at the waistband of his boxers.

Fred moved away from her breast with one more kiss against it. "Then let's go to the bedroom."

"Can't wait. Here," she whined, trying to convince him with another buck of her hips.

Fred groaned pleasurably, and then shook his head. "If we're still pretending for the night, a perfect boyfriend would not allow the first time to be a desperate, hurried shag on the sofa. Now, you get your sexy arse to the bedroom so I can do all the things I want to do for you."

Hermione's eyes widened at the promise, and quickly took Fred by the hand, leading him to the bedroom, practically pulling them both onto her bed.

Fred started kissing Hermione again, his fingers this time working their way to her tiny lace knickers. After pulling them over her hips, his lips left hers at he brought his attention further down. Kissing along her neck, then breasts, then stomach, his mouth finally found its goal between her legs.

Hermione gasped for what seemed like the hundredth time that night, this time feeling as though she had taken all of the air out of the room, as his tongue found her clit. She started to groan with desire as he languidly tongued at her nub, shifting from stroking motions to counter-clockwise ones. Her low groans turned suddenly into almost animalistic, wanton hollers as he slipped a finger inside her, firmly but expertly rubbing until he found her g-spot.

Slipping a second finger inside her, Fred continued his attentive ministrations both with his mouth and fingers. Hermione's hands fisted into her duvet as she thought she was going to lose her mind completely. Moaning his name one more time, her orgasm rolled through her suddenly, her whole body writhing as she came harder than she ever had before.

Fred smiled with satisfaction as he watched her panting, sweating, and looking utterly spent. He crawled up beside her on the bed, and whispered in her ear, "if you're done for the night, just let me know, I can always head home and… uh, look after myself." His eyes gestured downward, and hers followed them to the considerable erection straining readily against the fabric of his boxers, and despite her exhaustion, her arousal swelled again.

"Said I needed you," Hermione breathed. She took the waistband of his boxers and carefully pulled them over his hips. Her eyes widened as she finally viewed a nude Fred, and slid her hand along his solid length, revelling in his blissful shudder at her long-awaited touch. "I meant it."

"Thank fuck for that," said Fred, positioning himself above her. "I'd have left it at that if it was all you wanted, but it would have meant a whole night of non-stop wanking for me after that. Wouldn't have gotten any sleep at all."

She giggled, then hissed sharply as he slid into her. He held still at the sound.

"Are you okay?" he asked tenderly, brushing a curl away from her face. "Should I stop?"

Hermione shook her head vehemently. "You'd better _not_ stop," she said warningly. "It's just been a really, really long time for me, and you are… shall we say, rather prodigious?"

Fred laughed. "I'd have thought you'd have been too distracted to hang onto that large vocabulary of yours."

She grinned wickedly. "I'm nearly there. Go on, keep distracting me."

He began to slowly, leisurely thrust inside her. As she became accustomed to him, she let out a happy sigh, and wrapped her legs high around his back. At this encouragement, his thrusts gradually grew faster, and their voices joined together in exultant moaning.

"Hang on," he said, after several minutes of delicious friction. Before she could respond, he held her and rolled them over – so that Hermione was now perched atop him. "Wanted to have this view to remember," said Fred, pressing into her again, even deeper in this new position, and he groaned her name. "Can't last much longer," he eventually breathed, after a few more minutes of thrusting.

His lustful words affected her, causing a fresh wave of wetness, and she grinned impishly as she tightened her muscles around him. He gasped, and stilled her hips with his hands.

"Don't do that just yet," he said, between gasps for breath. "I want to see you go again first."

"I'm just a bit tired after that first one," she whispered back. "Nearly there, though."

"Let's get you there," he said. "Put those fingers to good use, yeah?"

Hermione nodded, and rubbed her clit as Fred started again to rock her back and forth against his throbbing length, clearly using every drop of strength he had to hold back. Three more thrusts had her over the edge, howling his name as she lost control.

Unable to wait any longer at the mind-blowingly arousing sight of Hermione's second orgasm of the night, Fred spilled inside her, still thrusting and clenching her hips, finally allowing himself the gratifying release he'd been struggling to restrain.

Completely spent, Hermione collapsed on top of him, keeping him inside her as they both caught their breath. When she eventually found her voice again, she whispered, "You really are the perfect boyfriend, aren't you?"

Fred grinned. "I aim to please," he said huskily.

She kissed him once more before rolling off of him and sliding under the rumpled duvet.

"I had such a great time tonight," she said simply, exhaustion beginning to set in. "Let me know if you're up for pretending again sometime, yeah?"

Her eyes drifted shut. Rolling over, sleep claimed her before she could even hear any sort of response. When she woke up to the sunlight blazing in through her window the next morning, she rolled over to greet Fred with a kiss. Finding the other half of the bed empty, she pulled the covers back over her head while her eyes burned with humiliated tears.


	5. Part 5

Disclaimer: As per usual, none of this is mine. Shame, that.

A/N: All done! It's been quite a while since I've actually gotten to mark a story as complete, so I'm quite pleased! Thank you to everyone who read this story (and extra thanks to those who left reviews)! It means so much to me that people have enjoyed my stories. This one may be all done, but I'll be updating some WIPs soon, and I have one or two new story ideas in the planning stages, so watch this space ;)

* * *

><p>Part Five<p>

Hermione spent the next few weeks avoiding many of her usual hangouts. Despite missing Molly and Arthur, she continued to make her excuses every time she was invited to the Burrow. She completely stopped showing up to the regular Friday pub nights at the Leaky Cauldron without any explanation to the group, and she exercised a great deal of caution when walking through Diagon Alley.

About one month after the Ministry Christmas party, Ginny unexpected showed up rather early in the day at Hermione's flat. Striding through her door, Ginny flatly stated, "Right, Hermione. We need to have a little chat about what's been going on."

Still in her pyjamas and bathrobe, Hermione crossed her arms at her best friend's accusatory tone. "Why? What exactly has been going on?" she asked, knitting her eyebrows in confusion.

Ginny sat down on Hermione's sofa. "That's what I need you to tell me! I haven't seen you _or_ Fred in ages! Not on Fridays, not at my parents' house, nowhere!"

"You haven't seen Fred?" Hermione asked, sitting beside Ginny.

"Not outside of his shop, no! It just seems really weird, both of you disappearing at the same time. Did something happen? Did you have a falling-out of some kind the night of the Christmas party? Did he play some sort of a horrible prank on you? He wouldn't say anything to me," asked Ginny.

"No!" answered Hermione. "No, nothing like that at all. We didn't fight. We haven't spoken or seen each other at all since that night either."

"Right then," said Ginny. She twisted her hands a bit in her lap, and bit her lip. "Did he talk about anything that night that he was upset about then?"

Hermione shook her head and shrugged.

"And are you okay?" Ginny pressed.

Hermione sighed. "I suppose I will be eventually." Noticing Ginny's quizzical glance, she hastily said, "I'm fine. Really. Totally fine. You have nothing to worry about. I've just got a lot on my mind, that's all."

Ginny let out a deep breath. "All right then. Well, could you do me a small favour, then?"

"Anything," Hermione said, relieved that Ginny was dropping the line of questioning.

"Just… if you see Fred around, could you talk to him? I'm worried about him, and… well, I don't know, you were with him last, so maybe you'd know what's been going on with him," finished Ginny.

Hermione shook her head again. "I have no idea what's been going on with Fred, I assure you," she said. "Like I said, I haven't seen him since the night of the party. But yeah, sure, I'll, uh… I'll talk to him if I see him. I think that I probably have to exchange a few thoughts with him, too."

Ginny patted her best friend's knee. "I appreciate that," she said. "And you'll let me know if you need anything? To talk, or whatever? I don't like your disappearance any more than I like Fred's."

"I'm sorry," said Hermione, hugging Ginny. "Of course, if I need anything from you, I won't hesitate. Okay?"

"Okay," said Ginny. "So will we start seeing you again soon? On Fridays, and… you know, just around, in general?"

Hermione smiled. "I'm sure you will soon," she assured her. "Like I said, I've just got a lot on my mind. I'm sorting out a few things. That's all. I won't be away forever."

Ginny got up, and headed toward the door. "All right. I hope whatever it is that's weighing on your mind is cleared up soon."

After seeing her friend out, Hermione said quietly to herself, "So do I."

The talk with Ginny had her feeling a bit rattled, and Hermione decided to go for a walk to clear her head. Determining that a visit to Flourish and Blotts would have the appropriate therapeutic effect, she started getting herself ready to go.

While taking a soothing, hot shower, Hermione couldn't help but let her mind wander back to her conversation with Ginny. She understood her own reasons for disappearing from the group's outings, but couldn't imagine why Fred would. _He_ had walked out on _her_, not the other way around!

Fred. Hermione sighed. She had been trying not to think about him, but couldn't seem to avoid it. When she had been cross with Roger, there was just anger there. This was just so much more… complicated. How was it possible to feel so furious with someone, so mortified by one, and yet to still, on some level, have such a strong attraction to that person?

For all her intellect, Hermione didn't understand it. But, as she had during every shower over the last few weeks, still found herself leaning against the wall, adroitly bringing herself to a powerful climax with the assistance of her detachable showerhead, while memories of time spent with a certain redhead ran through her mind. And, also as she had every time for the last few weeks, felt vaguely repulsed with herself while towelling off, somehow dirtier than before she got in.

Hermione eschewed her usual Saturday casual wear of loose jeans and sweatshirt, reasoning that she needed to feel good about herself, and should dress accordingly. The unseasonable warmth of the late January weather allowed her the option to not have to pick her cosiest, heaviest clothing. Opting to wear her dark blue skinny jeans, a soft grey top with a low cowl neck, and a pair of black ankle boots, Hermione polished her appearance with a slick of pink lip-gloss. After a failed attempt at taming her curls, and a dab of vanilla behind each ear, Hermione grabbed her short black trench coat, and left the flat, ignoring her unconscious mind's gentle chastising about her possible intentions for putting thought into her outfit.

Hermione's visit to Flourish and Blotts, to anyone who knew her well, would have seemed shorter than usual. While she could easily spend hours thumbing through the shelves, carefully examining all the new releases, and taking extra care inspecting the store's "rare books" section, she spent a comparatively efficient twenty-five minutes browsing before selecting the new title by Rolf Scamander about his search for rare magical creatures in the Amazon Rainforest.

She continued to walk around Diagon Alley, trying to clear her head of all the confusing emotions that had seemed to be casting a fog over her mind for the past month. While she had been unsure of her feelings on the night of the Christmas party, she was even more muddled now. Part of her was livid with Fred, humiliated by him, never wanted to see him again. Another part of her wanted him back in her bed, to explore the chemistry they had discovered that night, and was certain, as well, that it was more than just a physical connection.

A third part of her wished she had never taken him up on the offer for the stupid pretend date. Then everything would be as it was before – Friday nights at the Leaky Cauldron, occasional dinners at the Burrow, just complication-free.

She started to question why she was even so cavalierly walking through an area she had been carefully avoiding for the past month. Was this just a walk to clear her head, to walk off her anger with Fred? Or was she hoping to run into him? Why did she spend so much time making herself look nice? To attract him if she saw him, or to spitefully show off what he was missing? She really didn't know.

More baffled than ever, she sighed and plunked herself down on the nearest park bench, figuring she'd relax and look through her new book for a few minutes before moving on.

"What are _you_ doing here?" she heard asked of her from the next bench.

Turning to her right, she found herself facing a glowering Fred, sitting one bench over with a half-eaten sandwich.

Hermione turned on an icy manner. "I'm free to go where I like," she replied flatly.

"You – never mind," he said, wrapping up his sandwich, and leaving his bench. "I can't deal with this. I don't have to put myself through this."

"Excuse me?" asked Hermione, leaving her own seat to follow him. "_You_ can't deal with this? _You _don't have to go through this? What about me? How do you think I feel?"

Fred turned around abruptly, causing Hermione to jump back. "Why should I care how you feel? You used me!" he said loudly.

"I used you?" repeated Hermione. "I used _you_?"

Fred sighed. "You're starting to get shrill. If you really want to have this conversation, then fine, we'll have it. But let's get off the street, so we don't end up looking like a pair of banshees, all right?"

Hermione crossed her arms. "And where would you suggest we go? I hardly think this is appropriate for the pub or the coffee shop."

Fred snorted. "As if I was inviting you there. Back room at number 93. George has the day off, Verity is managing the store and won't ask questions."

"Fine," answered Hermione, and followed him in silence through the storefront of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.

As the door of the back room closed behind them, she cast a silencing charm on the door and started to yell. "What the _bloody hell_ do you mean that I used you? I woke up and you were gone! Haven't heard so much as a word from you since! What am I supposed to think? How do I know that you didn't use me?"

"Hey, I was doing you a favour!" he shouted back. When Hermione merely raised an eyebrow in response, obviously starting to boil over in anger, he continued, exasperated. "Not the sex! The date! I was trying to do a friend a good turn, that's all!"

"Oh, were you?" she challenged.

"Yes, I was," answered Fred. "And then you had to go and arrange everything to get what you wanted."

"And how exactly did I do that?" asked Hermione.

"Stop playing dumb, it doesn't suit you. You know that you seduced me," he answered spitefully.

"I seduced you. Really. Do tell," she said, her mouth a thin, angry line.

"You know you did! I've never seen you look like that before. I see you practically covered head-to-toe all the time, and you open the door, and you're wearing that _dress_! The sexy dress that showed off your shape and so much skin and… why did you have to wear that dress?" he said angrily.

"I bought that dress weeks ago, when I thought Roger was taking me to the party. Well before you were my pretend date. It was by no means intended to seduce you," she answered simply.

"Okay, well, what about the glamorous hair and makeup?" he asked.

Hermione shrugged. "It's what girls do when going to a dressy occasion. Totally normal. Don't flatter yourself."

"Well, fine! What about the Amortentia?" asked Fred, voice filled with venom and triumph.

Hermione was taken completely aback. "What Amortentia?" she asked.

"Come on! You sprayed yourself with it that night! I smelled it years ago it Hogwarts, I remember what it's like," he pressed. "You're brilliant enough with potions to have brewed it. Just admit it, and we can move on from there."

Hermione shook her head. "I swear, Fred, I would never do such a thing."

"I told you that you didn't know what you were asking of me. When you said you did, when you made your move on me, I thought you understood. That I don't do one night stands. That I'm not a casual sex kind of guy. When you said that we should pretend again sometime, I knew I was wrong. I was awake thinking for hours before I left. I figured out what I had been smelling on you all night, and why I was feeling the way I was," he hissed.

Hermione's eyes widened. "And… just how was that?" she asked slowly.

"Exactly what you wanted. That I had never had such a good time with a girl before. That I couldn't believe I hadn't noticed how sexy as fuck you were before, and what great chemistry we have together. You _know_ that by the end of the night, I had wished it was a real date, that I was ready to ask you out for real another time, when we weren't just playing pretend. You knew that I wouldn't be able to say no to you, that I was wanting you like crazy, because I had been breathing in your goddamn love potion all night!" he finished, almost shouting at her.

Hermione frowned. "Fred, smell my neck now," she said quietly.

"No way, I'm not playing any more of your games," he said.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, will you just sniff my neck and tell me if that's what you thought was Amortentia?" she directed, holding her hair out of the way.

Fred leaned in toward Hermione's neck, taking a deep breath in at the base of it. Hermione, still fuming, tried hard not to sigh with pleasure at the closeness, even as he took a second deep breath, reaching to hold her at the waist as he did so, but restraining himself.

"You're wearing it _now?_" he asked, backing away from her. "Did you plan all this? Running into me? Is that why you're looking all fit today?"

"Fred, that's not Amortentia, that's vanilla extract," she said.

"It's what?"

"It's ordinary vanilla. It's a habit I picked up from my mum. She always put a dab of vanilla behind our ears before going out. I still do it, for parties or if I just feel like looking nice in general. It's not Amortentia, or any kind of love potion. I can get the bottle from my flat if you don't believe me," said Hermione.

Fred reddened, and sat down. "Oh," he said, casting his eyes downward.

"Oh? _Oh?_ That's all you've got to say for yourself? After sneaking out of my flat without so much as a word, avoiding me, then accusing me of using you for sex by means of a love potion, all you can say is '_Oh?_'"

Fred mumbled something.

Hermione sat across from him. "Do you want to speak up?"

"I'm sorry," he muttered.

"Thank you," said Hermione. "I appreciate your apology." She paused, and then spoke again. "The question is, how do we proceed from here?"

"Hmm? How's that?" asked Fred, his eyes now meeting hers.

"Well, you seemed to have a lot of very specific thoughts about me on the night of the Ministry Christmas party," she stated matter-of-factly. As she saw Fred blush all the way to the tips of his ears, she felt rather satisfied that it was finally her turn to cause a visible reaction in him.

"Erm, yeah," was all he managed, before looking back at the floor.

"And the fact that you thought a smell associated with me was Amortentia surely has some sort of implications," she added.

She hadn't thought it was possible, but Fred seemed to blush even deeper, his face a darker crimson than his hair.

"I suppose," he said.

"Surely it's not going to be that easy still being friends with someone you think is… What was the term you used? Oh, yes, I believe it was 'sexy as fuck?'" she continued, grinning.

Fred hid his face in his hands. "I said way too much, didn't I? Do you think we can ever get past this?"

Using Fred's obscured vision to her advantage, Hermione got out of her chair and surprised Fred by sitting in his lap. He uncovered his eyes, and saw her smiling wickedly at him.

"I think we can," she answered, before capturing his lips in a searing kiss.

He responded quickly, sliding his hands up her sides, underneath her silky top, but soon broke away. "You're not mad?"

"Are you?" Hermione asked.

Fred shook his head. "I feel like a right prat, though. How can you not be mad after everything I said?"

"Oh, I was angry. Sickened. Livid," she said, shifting her position in Fred's lap to press her bum closely against his groin, pleased at the sharp breath he took as she did so. She leaned back to whisper in his ear. "But despite all that, I couldn't stop thinking about that night."

Fred held her tightly by the hips. "This definitely isn't some kind of prank? To get revenge on me for leaving you that night?"

Hermione got up and turned around, sitting back on his lap to face him, frowning.

"Do you really think I would do something like that?" she asked. "I thought you said that nobody should have to work so hard to prove their sincerity."

"You're right," he nodded. "This whole thing has just been so confusing to me. I mean, the fact that I thought that… well, that you smell like Amortentia…" he trailed off.

"Yes?"

"You said that has certain implications, and… I really don't want this to be just pretend. So I want to be sure that, well, this is more than just physical for you?" he asked.

Hermione wrapped her arms around the back of Fred's neck. "Look, I'm sorry if I sounded too casual that night," she started. "I don't typically look for casual encounters. I thought it was possible that might have been all I needed that night, because I really missed having a physical connection with someone. But I didn't really know what I was feeling. I didn't even know at the start of the night that I was going to want something physical with you; it was just something that happened. But I know that when I woke up, it hurt not just because you walked out on me, but also because I was looking forward to you just… being there. Whatever the implications are, for you or for me… If I'm being honest, I don't know what this is exactly, but I can tell you it's more than just physical."

Fred smiled. "I'm glad," he said. Wiggling his eyebrows, he added, "The physical part seemed pretty great, too, of course."

Hermione sighed over-dramatically. "It's been a whole month though. Maybe my memory needs some refreshing," she said, edging closer to him in his lap.

No further invitation was required for Fred, and he quickly held her tight to him and pressed his lips against hers, claiming them.

Breaking away, he explained, "Just so you know, I don't normally move quite this fast."

"That's fine," answered Hermione, reinitiating their embrace.

A few moments later, he stopped again, adding, "That is, I really don't just hop into bed with any pretty witch that I like."

"Whatever," she replied, finding his mouth again.

Fred pulled away a third time. "I'm just saying, so you know that –"

"Fred!" she nearly yelled, interrupting him.

He went silent, surprised at her outburst, and she immediately softened, seeing him disconcerted.

"Fred," she repeated, running her hand through his hair. "I get it. I take you seriously. I know you're not some prankster playboy. Like you said, you're not so one-dimensional as people might think."

Fred grinned. "Right."

"But we're never going to accomplish anything if you won't stop talking. Now, how long can Verity watch the storefront for?" she asked.

"As long as there aren't any emergencies, she'll be fine on her own. I can always make it up to her with some extra time off, if she wants. Why?"

Hermione put on her most Weasley-twin-like smirk. "I just want to know that we have time to stop playing pretend and start playing for real. Now, let's get your sexy arse up to your flat so I can do all the things I want to do for you."

"Rubbing off on you already, am I?" asked Fred, his hands sliding up her back.

"Not in the way I'd like you to be at the moment," Hermione answered cunningly. "What exactly are you waiting for?"

With a wicked grin, Fred left his seat, slinging Hermione over his shoulder to carry her upstairs. As she yelped with excited laughter, she knew that she'd never need to pretend anything with this Weasley twin again.


End file.
